


Picking Up the Pieces

by Doctorinblue



Series: Before and After [2]
Category: MASH (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-26
Updated: 2019-12-26
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:21:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21977266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Doctorinblue/pseuds/Doctorinblue
Summary: Hawkeye has fallen for BJ, but what does BJ hav to say about the matter?
Relationships: B. J. Hunnicutt/Benjamin Franklin "Hawkeye" Pierce
Series: Before and After [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1575166
Comments: 4
Kudos: 27





	Picking Up the Pieces

BJ landed in Korea and Hawkeye's heart and he's far too pure, too good, for either of them. But, if Hawkeye's learned anything at all, war and love consume without regard. So, as silently as he can manage, he loves BJ. He lets himself breathe in his laughter at the movies, pressed into his side, him in the mess tent, the Swamp filled with the warm scent of that damn soap Peg sends him. He lets himself take the small moments, store them away for single showers and late nights and that's it. That's all they are - laughter and love, and, most importantly, loyalty.

He's balancing on a wire he has no business being on, one that he swore off at least a year ago in this very tent. The memory still haunts him, still flares that ache in his stomach when he finds himself leaning into BJ's space too many times, or cracking another joke in the shower and hoping against hope that BJ will believe that it's only a joke. It's only a joke. He's trying to be strong, trying to mind where he lands at the end of this fall because Trapper had hurt him when he had pulled away, but BJ would destroy him when he did the same.

And, of course, there's the Peg problem. Peg, with her pretty letters and the homemade food. How could he miss the way BJ's always running for her, always half there, always his own line in the sand? How could Hawkeye dream of interfering with something like that, how selfish would he have to be to reach for someone who was reaching for someone else?

How could he?

BJ flops into the chair beside him, carrying with him the smell of the sun and a particularly strong batch of the homebrew

"How can you read this filth?" BJ asks, leaning over Hawkeye's lap to snatch the book that Hawkeye had pulled from his make-shift shelf and then promptly forgot.  
Who needed a book when you had a BJ in front of you

He nearly says that very thing before he catches the words on the way out of his mouth. He's not entirely sober, neither is BJ for that matter, and Hawkeye knows the dark roads he can find himself on if he's the one to stamp out the lights around him. BJ burns brighter than anything Hawkeye has ever seen, so he plasters a smile on his face, and tries to steer them to safer waters.

"I have a very refined taste," he says, laying back, pulling his legs up onto his bed into what he feels is a close approximation to relaxed.

BJ's in the damn chair though. He's close enough to touch, and aren't they just half on top of each other at any given moment anyway. It is the perfect torture and the perfect test of Hawkeye's willpower.

Hawkeye closes his eyes, listens to the rustle of the pages, and resists the urge to tease BJ about actually reading it.

The wind picks up around them, blowing through the open sides of the tent and helps to cool his overheated skin. He tries to savor it, the coolness of the evening. Winter will be in full force soon and he'll be longing for a moment just like this when he and BJ just are, and it's not about being scared, or a war, or how they were dropped into each other's laps and told to survive

It's just them in the twilight of summer.

No use in spoiling the moment now.

The book is tapped against his legs, and Hawkeye pulls his eyes open to find BJ smiling. The boyish quality hits him square in the gut and leaves him helpless and breathless and completely in love. BJ is saving him and slaying him all at once, and Hawkeye is oh-so-willing to live and die in the shadow of that smile.

"Movie tonight," BJ reminds. "Interested? You, me, a popcorn haze?"

"It's a date," Hawkeye says as casually as he can manage.

And if the words come out as more of a wheeze, BJ doesn't seem to notice. Hawkeye sits up, tosses the 'filth' onto Frank's bed, which earns him another grin.  
"I'll just hit the showers first," Hawkeye says, half hopes BJ stays right here and the other half, the not completely sane half, wishes he'd just come along.  
He reaches for his robe, the soap container, his mind darting around. BJ joining him would be nothing new. They've showered together as often as apart, and he's enjoyed the company in such a mindless task. Lately, however, it's been far less mindless. Lately, BJ has been lingering, in the shower, washing his thighs, and Hawkeye doesn't look, but he sure as hell stays. BJ is his anchor, sudsy and tempting or otherwise.

"Right behind you," BJ says, shifting up from the chair and into motion.

They cross the compound and slip into the showers. He averts his eyes while BJ undresses, is already under the water and scrubbing his face clean when BJ steps into the other stall. If BJ's noticed the change, the way Hawkeye's eyes dart anywhere else when BJ begins showing more than a puritan level of skin, he hasn't mentioned it.  
Hawkeye has a few ready-made quips, but none of them are likely to survive BJ's scrutiny so he pretends more than normal. Pretends BJ is only a friend - which isn't such a lie - pretends he's only chasing the nurses, passing the hours, instead of passing the hours until he can return to BJ's orbit and the empty places can begin to refill.

BJ has a habit of pouring himself out, and Hawkeye tends to be an empty vessel. It's all logical, really. 

Hawkeye scrubs his skin until it begins to burn, but the feeling is enough to drown out the longing. For a moment he's okay, then BJ's hand slips over his and he loses it all over again. The touch is warm, and soapy and only there for an instant.

Hawkeye rinses his face clean for a long moment before meeting BJ's eyes.

"Something you want to share with the class, Hawkeye? You're scrubbing yourself raw."

"Frank brushed by me earlier," he says, after a moment. "I'm trying to wash off the malpractice."

He's rewarded with a laugh, and it's permission to push forward with the jokes. It's either that or admit he's head over heels, and the latter has never done anything but ruin his life and friendships.

He auto-pilots through the shower, the dressing and dinner. The world is muffled, distant until he finds himself propped up next to BJ at the movie. It's a holdover, two weeks now, but none of that matters with BJ's leg leaned against his, the smell of popcorn in the air, and the darkness to hide his wayward thoughts.

Halfway through, when Hawkeye has just about managed to grasp the plot, fingers brush over his. He swallows down his mouthful of popcorn as BJ leans into his space, his breath warm against Hawkeye's ear.

"Let's get out of here?" BJ says.

Hawkeye nods at once, wipes his palms against his pants and stoops to shuffle out of the tent after BJ. Outside, the air is nearly cold, or perhaps that's the sudden increase in his own body temperature. His heart thumps as he hurries after him, closes the door carefully on the Swamp, before turning to face BJ.

"What's going on, BJ?" Hawkeye asks, settling himself on his bed. "It wasn't the worst movie we've seen, remember that one on-"

"Hawkeye," BJ says, moving in closer, slowly. He settles down next to him. "It's important. No jokes for the remainder of the serious please."

Hawkeye nods as his stomach drops.


End file.
